


Fancy Meeting You Here

by Raicheru



Series: Here We Go a Witchering [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (I couldn't think of anything witty this time), Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, No Beta, Possessive Behavior, Requited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, “Kidnap the Bard” Newsletter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicheru/pseuds/Raicheru
Summary: When Jaskier parts ways with Geralt to spend some time in Novigrad, he's grabbed by unknown assailants and taken out of the city.  They tuck him away in their hideout and plan to use him as bait for Geralt, but the Witcher arrives before they even have a chance to summon him.  Jaskier is surprised to see Geralt nearly come undone at the thought of losing him as the other man finally gives in to what they've both been feeling.*Can be read as a one-shot.  Reading the entire series isn't necessary. Past events are referenced, but only in passing.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Here We Go a Witchering [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654147
Comments: 13
Kudos: 452





	Fancy Meeting You Here

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last thing I have that was written while I was home over the last two weeks. I'm working on a really long story that I don't want to post until it's finished and I'm going back to work on Monday, so I'm not sure how often I'll have new work to share moving forward. 
> 
> I planned to have them get together later in this series, but they just wouldn't wait. I'm also not very good at vanilla smut, so that part is fairly short.

Jaskier headed back to his room at the Spearhead where he was currently staying after buying a few choice items at the market. Night had just fallen but he'd managed to pick up some long coveted necessities just before the merchants had packed up their wares. It was so nice to be in the heart of civilization again. As much as he enjoyed traveling, even when it was in the wilderness, he truly loved to be surrounded by people with shops and houses and walls. He'd soon become restless and would take to the road again, but for now, he was content to stay for a while. He'd arrived in Novigrad earlier that day after parting ways with Geralt south of the Pontar. They often went their separate ways, sometimes for weeks at at time. But they'd eventually find their way to one another again. This would be the first time they'd been apart in several weeks.

Jaskier had been to Novigrad enough times to know all of the in's and out's of the city's winding streets. The knowledge had come in handy on many occasions when he'd needed a quick escape out a window and sometimes down a trellis into a back alley away from jealous partners or disapproving family members. He made a mental note to check the street behind Adelaide's house before stopping in to see her. Perhaps he could sing her a song or two before her brother came home. Smiling, Jaskier nipped around the corner of a building. But before he could continue out onto the main thoroughfare, there was a hard yank on the collar of his doublet that nearly choked him. He dropped his parcels and heard the distinct sound of glass breaking.

“Do you have any idea how much that cos-ngph!” A rag was shoved in his mouth, cutting him off. He struggled, but his captor wrapped one arm around this throat and the other around his waist, holding him tightly in a mockery of an embrace. Jaskier spat out the rag and twisted in his grip.

“Get OFF of me!”

A second man moved in and gagged him more securely with a thick strip of fabric. The large knot in the middle settled behind his teeth and pressed his tongue down. Jaskier growled and tried to push him away, but his hands were caught and tied tightly in front of him with rough rope before his ankles were quickly lashed together. He let out a muffled howl as he was lifted between the two of them. Jaskier bucked in their grip, but they had a tight hold on him and together they hauled him out to the main street where a man rode into view leading a spare horse. He was hefted up and slung across the saddle like a sack on his belly with his arms hanging down in front of his face. A rope was tied to his bound hands and looped under the horse to other side where it was wrapped around his knees. 

When they were done securing him so there was no possible way for him to wriggle off the horse, they threw a thick blanket over him. Swearing at them and trying to call for help only earned him a sharp whack on the back of the head that made his ears ring. Jaskier huffed and twisted his hands in the bindings as the horse started moving. They started out at a walk and the saddle started digging into his middle almost immediately. When the horse sped up, the breath was knocked out of him. Where were they taking him? 

*******

Jaskier lost track of time as he was jostled on the back of the horse. By the time they stopped, his middle felt bruised and the ache in his shoulders made him groan. The blanket was pulled off suddenly and fingers threaded through his hair before yanking his head up. Jaskier blinked in the sudden light of torches as a distant rumble of thunder sounded. He could see the flickering light shining on a thickly wooded area next to a rocky hill. A strange man was grinning at him with four other men standing behind him. He was missing a tooth and his breath was foul.

“Good work boys,” the man said before turning his head and spitting. “I thought it was too good to be true when I heard that the Wolf's pet bard was in town.” He cupped Jaskier's jaw with rough fingers. “Let's set the stage, shall we?” 

This wasn't about him. They were after Geralt. Jaskier glared at the man as two of the others came over and untied him from the horse. They pulled him off the saddle and set him on his feet so they could cut the rope at his ankles. His legs were a bit unsteady and they kept a tight grip on his arms as they lead him toward an opening in the shadowy rocks. The leader and the two other men lead the way with their torches. Jaskier stumbled on the uneven floor of the cave's entrance and would have fallen if he wasn't held up by his captors. The path slanted downward leading to a narrow passage. The ceiling was low and his heart started hammering as he suddenly worried that he'd never see the sky again. He tried to focus on the cracked Elven carvings along the walls. They had brought him to an old ruin.

They picked their way carefully down, sometimes splitting up so one could lift Jaskier and hand him down to the other over a steep drop. He didn't dare struggle as he was manhandled through the passage. If he broke any bones down here, he definitely wasn't getting out again. The ceiling rose up suddenly above them as they came out into a large cavern. There were gaps that were open to the sky and they let in streams of moonlight. A camp fire over to one side provided weak, flickering light. In the center of the chamber stood the statue of an Elven woman. Her arms were spread out and her face was turned up towards the sky. Tendrils of roots and flowering vines trailed down from the cracked roof to create natural garlands. It was beautiful. 

But Jaskier wasn't given time to admire it before he was roughly dragged forward. He grunted behind the gag and stumbled. Wordlessly, they hauled him towards the statue and cut his hands free. For the first time, he noticed the coils of rope laying on the ground and he felt a sudden twinge of fear. That was more than enough to hang a man. He wasn't sure what kind of show they intended to put on, but he hoped it didn't star his dead body. But if they were going to kill him, they probably wouldn't have handled him so gently bringing him down here. He had some bruises, but they hadn't been too rough so far. 

Two of the men positioned him with his back against the front of the statue while the other two spread his arms out and secured them to the statue's limbs with lengths of rope. They continued coiling and knotting the rope around his chest, waist, and down around his legs. The statue was about his height so he had a stable base to stand on and he could lean back to rest his head on her solder. Her stone breasts dug into his shoulder blades, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. By the time they were finished, he could barely move. 

Thunder rumbled again, echoing in the chamber. He could hear the patter of rain through the cracks in the roof. Before long, it was a downpour and he let out a muffled squawk as a steady stream of water suddenly started pouring down on him. Jaskier sputtered and had to turn his head to keep from snorting it up his nose. He saw one of the men pull a knife out of the corner of his eye, and he cringed back as far as the statue would allow. But all he did was cut his doublet and rip off a scrap of fabric. Jaskier jerked in the bindings and swore at him. The man just laughed and left him there to go sit by the fire with his companions over on the dry side ledge. 

Jaskier shivered as he felt the water run down his body, soaking his clothes and filling his boots. What a night. It would be a poetic tale of adventure if he wasn't playing the part of the damned damsel in distress. Again. At least he was conscious this time. If he lived through this, he'd have to do some editing. He couldn't hear much over the sound of the storm and the splash of water, but what snippets of speech he could hear were about deciding who was going deliver the fabric to Geralt. Jaskier clenched his fingers and huffed out a frustrated breath through his nose. He didn't like being used.

Jaskier shivered in the cool air of the cave as water continued to pour down. It pooled below the statue creating a small lake around him. It was a while later when it finally slowed to a light trickle. Jaskier shook his head to flip his hair off his forehead, biting at the sodden fabric in his mouth. When he blinked the water out of his eyes, he saw his captors moving to the edges of the cave. They seemed panicked as they scrambled for cover but he wasn't sure why. Someone must be coming, but it couldn't have been Geralt. The messenger hadn't even left yet. Whoever was coming through the passage was going to die. 

But just as Jaskier drew a breath to scream a warning, one of the men pointed a crossbow directly at him and shook his head. Jaskier held his breath and didn't dare move. The air shuddered out of his nose in a sudden, relieved whimper as Geralt stepped into the entrance of the cavern with his sword drawn. The Witcher's eyes found his and widened slightly in surprise. They stared at each other silently for a moment and it almost felt like time slowed for just a second. The stillness was suddenly broken by the twang of the crossbow and Jaskier jerked with a muffled cry as Geralt deflected it away from himself with his blade. One of the men fell choking with the bolt sticking out of his throat. The other four surged out from where they were hiding, attacking the Witcher all at once.

Jaskier tugged at the ropes, unable to stand still and watch from the sidelines. He wasn't sure what he thought he could do to help, but he had to try to do something. But after struggling uselessly, he ended up hanging in the bindings, panting with the effort of trying to get free. Geralt kept the other men at bay, cutting one of them across the top of his thigh. Twirling in a graceful parry, he neatly sliced across another man's throat. The corpse spun to the ground, spraying blood. The leader growled and pointed at Jaskier.

“Kill the bard!” 

The man with the crossbow turned to fire and Jaskier shrank back against the statue. He turned he head away and squeezed his eyes shut when Geralt's sword severed the man's arm at the shoulder. He heard shouting and screams. Water splashed up from the pool of water below him with a sudden gust of wind, making him flinch. He'd felt the magic of a Witcher's sign before and shivered when it brushed over his skin. A final gurgling cry echoed through the air and then there was just the drip of water and Jaskier's pulse thundering in his ears. Footsteps splashed in the water and his breath started heaving. 

“It seems I can't leave you alone for five minutes.” Geralt probably meant for that to come out in a lighter tone, but he sounded grave. Not a rebuke necessarily, more a statement of fact. Jaskier sighed out a shuddering breath, unable to look at him as his heart slowed back to normal. He was suddenly exhausted. The gag was carefully removed and he licked his lips, tasting water and earth. Gentle fingers brushed the corner of his mouth where the fabric had rubbed his skin raw. 

“Sorry,” Jaskier muttered, finally looking up at the other man. Geralt cupped his chin with far more care than than his kidnapper had. 

“For what?”

Jaskier huffed a bitter laugh and dodged the the question. “How did you find me? You seemed surprised when you showed up. I don't think they'd even left to find you yet.” 

Geralt frowned and knelt to start cutting him loose. “Went into the city to get my sword repaired and got waylaid by a woman crying that her lover had been stolen by monsters on the road.”

Jaskier's brows rose. “And you believed her?”

“Her fear was genuine even if her story was somewhat lacking in accuracy. Didn't know it was you until I got here.”

“Ah, yes. The infamous Witcher who doesn't get involved let himself be swayed my a maid's frightened tears.”

Geralt glared up at him but didn't reply. Jaskier had long since become immune to the other man's scathing looks and he just chuckled.

“Sucker,” he said with a smirk. His words held no heat. Geralt's soft heart was one of the most endearing things about him. 

“This from a man who let himself be snatched off the street like a visitor from the country who doesn't know any better.” Geralt stood and gave him a sober look. “You're usually more careful that that.” 

“Yes, well. . .” Jaskier sighed and considered why he'd let his guard down so thoroughly. Truth be told, he felt safer within the city's walls even though he knew it could be more dangerous than the wild. He looked down as Geralt as he started working on the ropes around his waist. The water was making them harder to cut. Jaskier winced when he took in the full extent of the damage to his clothes. His wet silks were water stained and scuffed with dirt. A large swatch was missing from the hem of his doublet on the left side, leaving his shirt to hang out sloppily through the gap. 

“What kind of monster did she hire you to slay, exactly?” he asked, trying to change the subject. 

“She was rather vague on that point, though I suspected they were of the two-legged, city dwelling variety.” Neither one of them looked at the bodies. 

As the Witcher's knife started on the ropes holding his arms, Jaskier regarded the other man's profile. He must have stopped into the barber. His beard was neatly trimmed and his hair was less wild than it had been when they'd parted that morning. He wondered idly why he'd come into the city at all. Geralt had curled his lip and decided to pass on stopping in when Jaskier had mentioned it. He wasn't quite convinced that his sword needed attention, but he was grateful, regardless of the reason. Jaskier rolled his shoulders and rubbed his cold hands together when he was finally free. From the way they'd trussed him up, he was certain he was never meant to leave here. He grimaced when Geralt helped him step down and he ended up ankle deep in the pool of water. 

The torches had gone out when they'd been dropped in the water during the fight. The only light was the dying flicker of the fire by the wall and there was no dry tinder to make more. At the exit, Jaskier took one last look at the statue. The peaceful expression on her face was at odds with the violence that had happened here. Turning away, he headed into the passage and promptly tripped over a rock.

“Fuck,” he muttered as a strong arm wrapped around his waist. He could have sworn he heard an annoyed huff in the dark. “Not all of us can see in the dark, you know.” It wasn't pitch black, but he could hardly see where to put his feet.

“Here.” Geralt laid his arm across Jaskier's lower back and gripped his elbow to help guide him out. With careful steps, they worked their way through the passage. When they reached the small ledges, Geralt would briefly leave his side to climb up and reach down so he could pull him up. It was slow progress and probably took twice as long to get out as it had to come in. But finally, they came to the exit and he could see by the moonlight through the clouds that were breaking up. Jaskier moved out into the trees to wrap his arms around Roach's neck. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Sweetheart,” he said, incredibly glad to see her again. She whickered softly and started noising at his pockets. “Sorry Darling, I don't have anything.” 

“Come on.” Geralt unhooked the reigns from the branch where they'd been secured and gestured toward the saddle. 

“You mean I actually get to ride? To what do I owe the pleasure?” He was uncomfortable for some reason and wasn't sure of Geralt's mood. The Witcher was prickly in the best of times, but there was an odd tension that kept shifting from tender relief to impatience and he was having trouble keeping his balance. Words were always his best defense and he desperately wanted to ease the atmosphere.

“It's an hour's ride back to Novigrad, Jaskier. Get in the saddle.” Geralt's voice was an impatient snap. 

Jaskier quietly mounted while Geralt pulled out his cloak and put it on before climbing up behind him. Before Jaskier could say anything, the thick fabric was wrapped around him from behind, enveloping them both in a warm layer of wool. Despite the harsh words, the arm that wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against Geralt's chest was gentle. Jaskier felt safe for the first time in hours and he felt himself starting to relax. He sighed and leaned back as the other man took the reigns from him and urged Roach forward. It wasn't long before exhaustion caught up to him. The gait of Roach's steps and the warmth of the man behind him had Jaskier nodding off. 

Later, the rumble of Geralt's voice and the feel of an arm tightening around his waist had Jaskier sitting up and blinking sleep from his eyes. They were nearing the city gates and two men were heading their way, arguing about something.

“I don't know. The Witcher was here, but he's gone now,” one of them hissed.

“Without proof, it doesn't matter. I told you we should have taken something from the bard before shipping him off to Roth.”

“What do you think this is?” One of them shook a lute in the other man's face. 

“Something that doesn't belong to you,” Geralt growled. 

The two men jumped and stared at the Witcher and Jaskier, wide-eyed. “How did you. . .?”

“I believe that belongs to me,” Jaskier said imperiously, flipping back the cloak and holding out his hand as indignation banished the last of his fatigue. Not only had they assaulted and kidnapped him, they'd stolen his most prized possession. When the two men remained motionless, Geralt pulled his loaded crossbow to provide some incentive. The man holding the lute carefully stepped forward and held it up. Jaskier felt more at ease when his fingers curled around it. He cradled it carefully in his lap as Roach was nudged forward again. Geralt put away the crossbow and snarled at them as they rode by.

“Make yourselves scarce. Next time I see you will be your last days.” His voice held a quiet menace that he didn't use often, even when he was angry. The two men scrambled into a panicked run, quickly disappearing from sight. The arm around Jaskier's waist tightened again. It appeared Geralt was more upset than he'd let on earlier. He held Jaskier close and growled in his ear, making him shiver. “Do you have a room?”

“At the Spearhead.” At least he hoped he still did. If those thugs had taken his lute, it was hard to tell if the rest of his things were still intact. When they got to their destination, Jaskier waited patiently for Geralt to put Roach in the stables and got her ready for the night before going inside with him. As soon as he stepped through the door, there was a feminine squeal.

“Jaskier, Darling!” Adelaide rushed over and threw her arms around his neck, before covering his face with kisses. He disentangled himself gently and took her hand so he could press his lips to her knuckles. 

“Good evening, my dear.” He inwardly winced as she beamed at him with tears in her eyes. While he'd been interested in a quick diversion earlier that night, he now realized it was merely a distraction to get his mind off the idea of being alone again. Geralt's presence banished all desire for other company.

“Those brutes,” she pouted. “Did they hurt you?”

“He's fine,” Geralt growled behind him. He pressed up against Jaskier's back and Adelaide shrank back a bit.

“It's impolite to frighten a lady, my dear Witcher,” Jaskier chided gently. A smoldering warmth rose in his belly which felt rude. He'd never put up with such possessiveness from anyone else before and jealously wasn't a trait he admired. But he'd never felt it coming form Geralt before. Fortunately Adelaide wasn't deterred for long, or at least she didn't take it personally. 

“A Witcher never works for free, of course,” she said reaching for her purse.

“No monster, no payment.”

Adelaide had the grace to blush and clasped her hands in front of her. “I'm sorry for the deception, Master Witcher, Sir. I feared you would not take the contract had I not told a small falsehood.” Her gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them and she smiled a bit sadly. “But it appears you are in good hands Jaskier. I'm glad you are well, Master Bard.” She nodded at him formally before heading for the door and leaving. Jaskier blew out a long breath and clutched at his lute. That had not gone how he'd expected. A warm hand on his lower back urged him forward and he was suddenly reminded of his damp, clammy clothing. He wondered idly if he'd be able to save his boots.

Up in his room, Geralt closed the door and flicked his fingers at the fireplace, igniting the logs waiting there and tossed the cloak over the nearby chair to dry. He didn't often use magic so casually unless he was in a hurry. Jaskier set the lute in its case beside the bed and found himself turned around and crowded back against the wall. Geralt was an imposing man, and while Jaskier wasn't afraid, he felt his middle tighten again. The other man framed his face with both hands, his thumbs brushing along Jaskier's cheekbones before his hands moved down to rest on his shoulders. Jaskier's breath was starting to quicken and he trembled from the intensity of the other man's closeness. 

He remembered when he'd woken up in Geralt's arms after nearly dying before. He'd spent many nights pondering how it had felt to be held that tightly. But he hadn't quite understood what was happening at the time. Had the other man looked as desperate waiting for him to wake then as he did right now? Jaskier placed his hands on Geralt's chest, his fingers gilding over the studded leather and looked into his eyes. 

“Geralt. . .” 

Geralt opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't say anything. He searched Jaskier's face, but it was hard to tell what he was looking for. Finally, he leaned in and kissed him. It was a desperate press of lips, that deepened as his tongue delved into Jaskier's mouth. A shudder rippled down the bard's body. Jaskier instinctively turned his head to slot their mouths together so the other man could go deeper. He let out a breathy moan through his nose, his breath heaving as he snaked his arms around Geralt's waist and pressed into him. The Witcher's knee slid between his thighs and he pushed up, pressing into him from underneath and Jaskier groaned at the pressure. When they parted, Jaskier was breathing hard. But to his surprise, the Witcher looked absolutely wrecked, his golden eyes unfocused and his slitted pupils blown wider than he'd ever seen them without a potion. 

Geralt still didn't say anything. He just buried his nose in Jaskier's neck below his jaw and inhaled deeply as if scenting him. Jaskier's hands skimmed over the armor on the other man's back, seeking out ties and buckles, loosening every one he could find. He'd helped remove it many times before and knew exactly where to look. Geralt pulled Jaskier's shirt out of his trousers before tugging both it and his doublet up. Jaskier had to pause in his efforts to loosen the armor to raise his arms so his top could be pulled off to leave his chest bare. The room was warming from the fire and he resumed unhooking the armor. Finally, he was able to help the other man pull it off and it was tossed aside in a heap n the floor. Jaskier would have continued undressing him, but he felt hands on his ass starting to lift. Taking the hint, he hopped up and he wrapped his legs around Geralt's waist as the other man hefted him up and leaned in to kiss him again. He was pressed back into the wall and he felt the grain of the wood digging into his back. 

“Bed,” Jaskier mumbled against the other man's mouth. 

As feverishly as he wanted him, he didn't want to do this against the wall. As it was, he feared their first encounter would be a quick one. Between the breathless joy of escaping the jaws of death again and his wildest fantasies about a certain surly Witcher suddenly being realized, Jaskier didn't think he'd last long. When he was laid down, Geralt's weight pressed him down into the bed and he kept his ankles locked around his back. Both of them were breathless, kissing every inch of skin they could reach. Seeing the Witcher undone was doing things to Jaskier that he hadn't expected. He rubbed himself against the other man through his trousers, his cock straining at the fabric. But his legs were gently untangled as Geralt got up and moved away.

“Don't you dare leave me like this. . .” Jaskier hissed between clenched teeth as he fought not to cup himself. “You started it.” 

Geralt gave him a flat look as he finished taking his boots off and held up the bottle of oil he'd pulled out of his pack. 

“Oh. Well, then.” Jaskier puffed up his cheeks and blew out a breath, suddenly realizing that Geralt intended for more than just quick hand job to release the pressure. Without hesitation, Jaskier immediately pulled off his own boots and shucked his trousers, tossing them carelessly off the bed before the other man changed his mind. He had a spare thought to consider how desperate that made him appear, but didn't care. Months of openly pining and years of burying how deeply he felt had left him pent up and restless like an overfull wine skin that was ready to burst. Geralt's mouth curled in a rare smile as he crawled back onto the bed still clothed and settled between Jaskier's spread thighs. Jaskier should have felt exposed in his nakedness but he only felt the warmth of the other man's gaze on him. 

He'd always known there was something between them. He hadn't been sure how strongly the other man had felt about him, but there was no denying that he cared. Even when he was annoyed with him, Geralt would go out of his way to make sure he was alright. And he'd never failed to come to his rescue when he needed him. Jaskier watched Geralt spread oil on his fingers, slicking them against each other to make sure they were coated. His knees were gently raised so Geralt could reach down behind him and slowly tease him open.

“Geralt. . .” Jaskier curled the name on his tongue, groaning as he tried to remind himself to breathe. This was not how he had expected this to go. His eyes widened as the Witcher shifted his body lower and his head dipped low to engulf his cock, taking him into his mouth. Jaskier let out a strangled sound of surprise and let his head fall back on the bed. This was definitely not what he'd expected. He clenched his fingers in the sheets as a strong tongue curled around him and Geralt's cheeks hollowed as he sucked on him. When he hummed around Jaskier's cock with a low rumble and thrust his fingers deeper, Jaskier spilled himself with a cry. He felt a hot flush creep up his neck at how easily and quickly that had happened. He looked down to see Geralt watching him and finishing himself inside his trousers with his free hand. 

“Wow. You're uh, very coordinated,” he said breathlessly. His hands itched to hold the other man's cock in his hands. And other parts of his body. “I could have helped with that.” 

“Later,” Geralt said as he got up to wash his hands in the basin and shuck his damp pants before cleaning himself off and coming back to bed. 

“Hmm, later, yes. More. Later.” Jaskier laughed and rubbed a hand over his face as lay back on the bed. “You undo me, my dear Witcher.” He'd already been tired, and now he felt well and truly exhausted. And a bit tongue tied. Geralt pulled his shirt off and slid into bed with him, pressing kisses to his collarbone before burying his face in Jaskier's shoulder and pulling him closer. His voice was a muffled rumble.

“I have wanted. . .” Geralt began before huffing into his skin. 

“Why did you wait so long? I was certainly not subtle and you have always known my mind in such matters.” 

Geralt raised his head to look at him but said nothing.

“While you may not be the most communicative companion, you don't miss anything. And you are not as oblivious as you appear to others.”

“I believed that in distancing myself, you would be safer.” The Witcher settled back down and relaxed, his body splayed tightly over Jaskier's under the covers.

Jaskier stroked his hand over Geralt's hair. “I don't think that's ever made a difference.” Turning his head to press his lips to the other man's forehead. “I would much rather enjoy your full attentions while we have the time than deny ourselves for the sake of safety.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

“You'll have plenty of time to think about it as you spend the next few days ravishing me properly in this bed. We have a lot of missed opportunities to make up for.” His only answer was chuckle against his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> I have more ideas for oneshots for this series and I'll see if I can get them down on paper in the near future.


End file.
